Don't Let Them Win
by PadawanGirl
Summary: "'Reid, I want you to talk to this boy,' said Hotch. Reid paused in the hospital corridor, eyes wide. 'Me, sir'" Slight AU


**Another short story that took me days to write. In my notebook, it was the same length as the other short story, but typed it was twice as long. Musta used smaller handwriting those days.**

**I pictured this taking place before JJ or Garcia or Elle joined the team. You'll see why that matters in a bit. ;)**

**Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

><p>"Reid, I want you to talk to this boy," said Hotch.<p>

Reid paused in the hospital corridor, eyes wide. "Me, sir?"

Hotch faltered when he realized his agent was no longer beside him. He turned, eyeing him with his usual stoic expression. "Yes."

"S-Sir, I'm not sure I'm-"

"Reid, this boy has been abused by a large, powerful male. I don't mean this in any way offensive, but without a woman, you are the least threatening looking member of the team."

Reid opened his mouth to protest, but Hotch cut him off.

"You'll do fine."

Reid gulped nervously, slowing walking the last few feet to the door. He knocked softly before pushing it open a bit.

A young, dark skinned teen sat in the bed, glancing up at him.

"C-Can I come in?" asked Reid.

The boy stared down at his hands, clasped tightly in his lap, and nodded. Reid gulped again, slowly crossing the room and taking a seat in the chair beside the bed. "Hi, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid."

The boy glanced at him quickly. "I've already seen a doctor. And aren't you a bit young?"

"Oh, no, I'm not a medical doctor. I'm with the BAU, the Behavioral Analysis Unit. It used to be the BSU, the Behavioral Science Unit, but it, uh…" Reid trailed off, seeing the confused look the boy was giving him. "We, uh… We profile criminals. Study their behavior. To catch them."

"You're studying Carl?" asked the boy, his voice tight.

Reid nodded. "Derek, I-I need to ask you a few questions."

Derek Morgan glanced at him warily. "What questions?"

Reid shifted in his chair nervously. "Some questions about Carl Buford."

A dark emotion flickered across Derek's face before quickly being replaced by a blank expression. "Why?"

"We need your help to catch him," said Reid. "So that he doesn't hurt anyone else."

Derek's blank mask cracked, leaving him looking vulnerable but determined. "What do you need to know?"

"We went to the youth center, he's not there. Nor is he at his apartment. Did he… did he ever take you anywhere else?"

Derek nodded. "H-He has a cabin.

"Where?"

"On a lake." Derek's body trembled, his hands tightly clutching the blanket over his lap, eyes distant. "I-I know he told me the name, b-but I can't remember. W-We were sitting on the dock and h-he was t-touching me." Derek drew a shuddering breath.

"Okay, okay," soothed Reid, unsure what else to say. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd reached out his hand, but stopped before touching the boy. He went to pull away, but gasped as Derek's hand shot up, clasping his fingers tightly. "Okay," he repeated, staring at the dark fingers wrapped around his pale ones. "A cabin by a lake is good. Do you remember how long the drive was?"

Reid could feel Derek shaking. "A-About an hour, maybe a little longer. It was torture, being in the same c-car as him and having to w-wait, knowing what he was-" Derek broke off with a pained whimper.

"I'm sorry," said Reid sadly. He moved to stand up. "I need to-"

"Don't leave," gasped Derek, gripping Reid's fingers tightly, eyes wide and scared. He suddenly gulped, slowly releasing his grip. "Sorry."

Reid stared at him in surprise. "I need to tell my team about the cabin, but… I could come back, if you want."

Derek stared at his lap, giving a small nod.

"Alright," said Reid, still a bit shocked. He crossed the room, stepping out to find Hotch waiting. Reid made sure the door was closed. "He has a cabin on a lake, about an hour from here, maybe a little longer. He can't remember the name of the lake."

Hotch nodded. "The techs in Quantico should be able to work from that. Good work, Reid."

Reid gave a small smile. "Sir, I would like to stay here with Derek until Buford is found. He wants me to stay."

Hotch eyed him for a bit, before nodding. "Alright."

Reid smiled gratefully, going back into the room.

Derek glanced up, the haunted look on his face lighting a little at the sight of Reid. Returning to the chair, Reid watched Derek, unsure what to say or do.

Derek alternated between staring intently at the boring hospital blanket and glancing quickly at Reid. "You, ah… You study criminals?"

Reid nodded. "Yeah."

"A-And you've met other… people like me?"

Reid heard the unsaid _victims_. "Yes," said Reid sadly.

Derek suddenly seemed fascinated with the patternless blanket. "Did any of them know what they did?" he asked quietly.

Reid's brow furrowed. "What they did?" he repeated.

"To make this happen to them."

Reid floundered, unsure what to say. He could rattle off every statistic about why this happens, but he knew numbers and facts were only comforting to him. He swallowed, scooting to the edge of the chair a bit. "Derek," he started softly, laying his hand beside him on the bed, dark fingers instantly clutching his. "You didn't do anything to make this happen. P-People like Carl, they… just like to hurt innocent people."

Derek's grip was almost painfully tight. "I-I agreed to it," he stuttered, and Reid could see him struggling to suppress tears.

"Derek-"

"I never said n-no or tried to make him s-stop."

Reid twisted his finger in the tight grip until he could grasp Derek's hand in return. "Derek, if you had fought back or told him no, there's a chance Buford may have killed you and moved on to another boy," Reid blurted out without thinking.

Derek stared up at him, wide eyed." He would've killed me?"

Reid hesitated before nodding slightly. "We have linked him to the murders of four young boys in the area. James Bartfield, Damien Walters, and two boys who haven't yet been identified."

Reid was shocked to see Derek's dark face pale slightly. "James and Damien are d-dead?" he asked, voice barely a whisper.

Reid nodded.

Derek gulped. "I always hang out..." Derek's gaze dropped. "Well, _hung_ out with them at the center."

"I'm sorry, said Reid softly.

"Did C-Carl also… to them?"

Reid hesitated.

"Please," pleaded Derek.

It was Reid's turn to gulp. "James Bartfield was also abused," said Reid, watching a storm of emotions rage through Derek's eyes. "We believe James told Damien and that Buford found out."

Derek blinked rapidly, a few tears escaping. "But James was such a good person. He wanted to get his mom and paralyzed sister outta here, take them some place better."

Reid nodded sadly. "People like Buford try to destroy those who are good and innocent. But you can't let him win."

Derek looked up, eyes flashing determination. "I won't let him win," he said evenly, surely.

Reid gave a small smile, squeezing Derek's fingers gently. Before he could say anything the door burst open, a brunette woman rushing in.

"Derek," she cried, running across the room.

"Mama," he gasped, voice breaking as she stopped at his other side, gently brushing his thick, black curls back from his forehead.

"Oh, Derek," she sobbed, sitting on the bed and pulling him into a hug. Derek clung to her with his free hand, the other still holding Reid's. "When the school called, saying you had fainted and were b-bleeding. A-And then the police called and they told me about Carl, and I just- Oh, my baby!"

Reid sat there, politely averting his gaze as mother and son cried in each other's arms. Every time he tried to pull away, Derek would tighten his grip. After a few minutes, Derek's mother pulled back slightly, eyeing Reid. Derek glance up, looking between the two.

"Mama, this is Dr. Spencer Reid of the FBI."

Reid gave a slight wave. "Hello, Mrs. Morgan."

She gave a small smile in return. "Please, just Fran… Have you caught _him_?"

"My team is tracking him down as we speak," he said. "They are the best at what we do, and he will not get away. I promise." He stared at Derek, the boy meeting his gaze.

Fran eyed their clutching hands, realizing the strong connection her son had made with this young man. "Thank you," she said.

Reid's gaze flickered to her, confused.

"Thank you for being here, for Derek," she added.

Reid nodded, at a loss of what to say.

Fran cleared her throat. "So, you're a doctor?"

"Not medical," cut in Derek with a small grin. He laughed when Reid blinked at him in surprise, and Reid couldn't help but smile at the sound.

"PhD's" clarified Reid. "Three of them."

Fran's eyes widened. "Wow. You're so young."

Reid blushed slightly. "I'm 21."

Fran continued to stare at him in awe. "Your parents must be so proud."

Reid stared down at his lap, frowning slightly. "My mom is," he said quietly.

Fran winced at her mistake, while Derek squeezed Reid's hand comfortingly. Reid glanced up at him, a small smile flitting briefly across his lips.

The three jumped as Reid's phone rang. Derek reluctantly released his hand as Reid stood, moving a few feet away to answer. "Hey, Hotch… Yeah… Yes… You did?... Alright… Bye." Reid ended the call, turning back to the Morgans. "They caught Carl Buford."

Derek visibly relaxed, sagging against his mother.

"Thank god," breathed Fran, pressing her cheek to the top of her son's head.

Reid glanced between them and the door. "I, ah… I need to return to my team," he said, motioning to the door.

Derek smiled sadly. "I'm glad I got to meet you."

Reid returned the smile. "Me too." He gave another slight wave, turning to leave.

"Dr. Reid!"

Reid glanced back at Derek, the boy watching him intently. "Thank you."

Reid nodded, flashing one more smile, before turning and leaving the room.

* * *

><p><strong>Reid and Morgan have such a strong bond, I could easily see it being just as strong if they met under different circumstances than the show.<strong>

**And in this little version I created, I like to imagine that Reid inspired young Morgan to grow up to be an FBI agent, and that they meet again later in life. (Maybe I'll write that someday.)**


End file.
